


happy little accident

by halfwheeze



Series: Winteriron Bingo 2019 (Round 1) [16]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Disabled Character, Deaf Clint Barton, First Meeting, M/M, Meet-Ugly, Prosthetic User Bucky Barnes, Slow Clapping, Tony gets clocked but Bucky is VERY SORRY, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 15:47:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20260567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfwheeze/pseuds/halfwheeze
Summary: Meet (sort of) ugly prompt: for some reason, Tony and Bucky try to high five but they miss and Bucky's hand smack Tony right in the face and his nose starts to bleed and it won't stop so Bucky freaks out and takes him to the emergency room apologizing profusely all the way (the remix)





	happy little accident

**Author's Note:**

> @journeythroughtherain gave this prompt for art on the winteriron server, but jo also said it was cool if I used it as a fic prompt!
> 
> This is also for Winteriron Bingo Prompt O3: Slow Clap

Tony doesn’t know everybody at the party, but that’s not unusual. He usually frequents parties with quite a larger population than this, though, so it’s a bit odd on that standard. He’s been nursing his first drink for an hour and a half, half of it still swilling in the bottom of the glass, because this is the agreement he’s made. He’s allowed to drink socially, sure, but if he falls off the wagon again, Rhodey checks him in at the nearest rehab before he even clears the hangover. 

Nobody ever cared about him like that before Rhodey. 

“Hey Stark! Come ‘ere, I got somebody for you to meet,” Barton calls Tony out of his thoughts, gesturing for him to cross the room to meet a long haired brunette with the kind of smile that made Tony want to pinch his cheeks. It’s a shy thing, his eyes hidden behind his hair just a little as he waves, metal hand glinting where it peaks out of his hoodie sleeve, at Tony from across the distance that Tony is rapidly making shorter. It’s been a while since Clint has tried to set him up, but there’s always a next time for everything when Clint’s involved. He sets his drink on a table he passes just in case things go as well as Clint always thinks they will. 

“This, my dear Stark, is one James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes,” Clint introduces, his circus flourish encompassing Barnes as if he’s the Jada Pinkett Smith to Clint’s Will. Clint continues with something that semblances alcoholic grace, “And, yes, I do mean the very James Buchanan that, in a fit of true genius not even you could replicate, pushed our dear Rogers over and onto his ass in front of our dear Loki, bagging Steve Rogers his first date of his college experience.” Tony cackles unrestrainedly, remembering when Clint had burst into his lab to tell him about it, though that was obviously still long before Tony’s own introduction to their fearless leader’s childhood best friend. 

“Hi, I’m Tony. Incredible to meet the man, the icon, the legend,” Tony says, grinning and holding his hand up for a high five rather than out for a handshake. He isn’t much for being handed things, even the hands of pretty brunettes, especially if they’re still only friends of friends, practical strangers. Bucky’s smile seems a bit more genuine now, though his nerves seem to still have a hold on him. 

That much is obvious when all Tony can see is stars a moment later, black filling his vision as only Clint’s hand on his waist level forearm saves his ass from hitting the floor. It takes him probably two entire seconds to realise he’s been hit. In the face. In the nose, specifically. With the metal hand. 

“I’m so fucking sorry! I was just trying to high five you! I’m so sorry!” Barnes says, collecting him into a better standing position before guiding him into the kitchen. Clint is full body laughing, nearly crying in his little corner of the darkened room. He’s slow clapping like a seal when he comes back to, following them and leaning against the door jam. Bucky is dabbing at Tony’s nose with a wet paper towel that Tony hadn’t realised the other man had grabbed, light as he can but it still hurts like  _ fuck,  _ and Tony can’t hold in the hiss. 

“If I don’t call Tasha and tell her about this  _ right now,  _ she’ll have my hide. You promise not to die in my absence?” Clint asks, darting into the hallway before either of them can even formulate a reply. Then, there were two. He and Bucky are standing way too close in the dim lighting of the kitchen, the quiet and yet loud ambient noise of the party suddenly far away as he looks up into blue eyes. Barnes is maybe two inches taller than him, tops, not tall like Rogers or taller like Barton, but manageable. Tony thinks he likes that. 

“Think I’ll need stitches, doc?” Tony says lightly, breaking the tension open a little in the hopes of making Barnes crack a smile. He smiles back when the other man does, his eyes lighting up just the barest bit. He looks from Tony’s eyes back down to his nose and the smile falters. 

“I don’t think you will, no - I don’t even think it’s broken. I really am sorry, Tony. I was really nervous about meeting you, an’ I guess it decided to show itself pretty fine,” Bucky says, self-deprecating smile tilting his mouth down just as the Brooklyn accent does the same to his voice. Tony tilts his head, though he doesn’t get out of Bucky’s space in the slightest. It’s not a bad place to be. 

“You were nervous about meeting me? Little old me?” Tony says, teasing laughter creeping in at the edges as he reaches a hand to lay itself on Bucky’s arm. He’s fascinated as Bucky blushes dark. Neither of them moves. 

“I’ve heard a lotta stories about you, Tony Stark. And, uh… You’re not so bad to look at either,” Bucky admits, his face actually tilting down and  _ closer  _ to Tony’s, their noses brushing and then almost their  _ lips,  _ closer and closer, until. Clint fucking Barton, slow clapping in the goddamn doorway, shoulder against the doorjam, apparently back from his phone call with Natasha even sooner than predicted. 

“From nearly breakin’ a guy’s nose to mackin’ on him in my kitchen, Jamesy, I’m so proud!” Clint says, his theatrics horribly typical of him and yet Tony can’t hold himself from laughter. He delicately leans into Bucky’s shoulder, careful of his tender nose, and grins as he feels Bucky’s face press into his hair, metal hand lifting from his side to assumably flip Clint off. 

“Fuck off, Clint,” Tony says, muffled, and he doesn’t even think Clint hears for the noise of the party and his hearing aids, but Bucky repeats it, louder, and with his face clear for Clint’s lip reading abilities. Tony is racked with laughter to hear Clint’s indignant squawk. 

“In my own house!” the archer says, turning on his heel and dramatically stalking out of the room, though, unknown to Tony, the archer blew a kiss over his shoulder. Bucky brought his hands back to Tony’s face, pulling the other man off of his shoulder. 

“You wanna see where this goes?” he asks, soft and careful, and Tony smiles, leaning up just the barest bit to press a brief kiss to Bucky’s lips. 

“Why not?” 

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed!
> 
> find me on tumblr @primekent!


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